


After the Fire

by romanticalgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 8-24-08</p>
    </blockquote>





	After the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 8-24-08

Ron’s not sure it’s over until he hears Hermione crying.

He knows, of course, that it is. He can see that Voldemort’s gone and the only people left standing are those that are on their side. He sees the familiar red hair of his family and starts counting heads, only to stop when the numbers keep coming up wrong. He’s sure there’s a reason, but he can’t think of it now, can’t think at all.

Hermione’s crying.

Ron moves over to her, finding her where she seems to be huddled against the wall, tired of being brave and smart, he imagines. It takes a lot of energy, a lot of effort, and he doesn’t begrudge her the strength it costs her. He wonders for a moment if she’ll lean on him, but then wonders if he’s brave enough to ask. He figures he’s helped defeat Voldemort. He should be brave enough for anything at all.

“Hermione?”

She straightens sharply and wipes her face, as if erasing the tracks of tears will hide the redness of her eyes and the sorrow that exudes from her. Most people think Hermione’s unfeeling, uncaring, but Ron knows that’s not the truth. Sometimes she cares too much, and just hasn’t the ability to show it the way most people do. “Yes, Ron?”

He sees it in her face, all the answers he can’t quite make sense of, and it scares him more than Voldemort ever did. They fought a war and they won, but they lost, and the bodies they knew of before - Sirius and Cedric and Dumbledore, and even before that like Harry’s parents – weigh just as heavily as the newest deaths like Mad Eye Moody and Hedwig and Dobby and Lupin and Tonks and Colin Creevey and Snape and…

Fred.

“Don’t cry, Hermione.” He steps up to her and puts his arm around her, tugging her close. She makes a soft noise that he’s relatively certain isn’t a sob, but he’s not quite sure how to classify it. He’s sure she’d know, but he doesn’t want to ask. She feels good against him, right, and it’s like some of the pain of the day goes away. He can hear the distant crying and he can hear spells being cast, trying to heal the wounded and repair the castle. He can feel the magic around him and he wraps Hermione a little tighter. “It’ll be all right.”

“How?” She asks so softly he’s not completely sure he heard the word, and he wonders if he really has an answer. He lost his brother and his friends and mentors and more today, and he’s not really sure how any of that can be all right. He wants to tell her that, tell her he doesn’t know, but he can’t through the thickness in his throat and the tears in his eyes.

“Voldemort’s dead.” He reminds her softly, burying his face against her bushy hair.

“It’ll never be the same.”

“No,” Ron agrees, glancing over to his family. They’re short a redhead now, but plus Harry and Hermione and Neville and Luna and whomever else needs a home, a hearth, a heart. “But it will be all right.”


End file.
